Every once in a while I'm reminded of how lucky my kids are to have me and Dave as parents. I don't say this to pat myself on the back or anything like that. After all, my boys have only fleeting thoughts of being fortunate in this way and, for the most part, think they're pretty screwed in this department. Consider the feedback we get from them when we dole out even the lightest of consequences.
"Are you serious?!?!"
"You have a problem!"
"You have issues!"
"You're the worst mother/father in the world!"
"Anger management issues!"
"Wow!"
"I hate you!" (to which I always respond with "I know you love me"...after all, I learned something from Terms of Endearment.)
I'm good with all of that. The truth is I don't really want them to think about the fact that there are less qualified parents out there than we are. I'm confident that when they reflect back on their childhoods they'll remember it as quirky, happy, and decidedly "interesting". This works for me.
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